


impression

by mixians



Category: Super Junior, Super Junior-M
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:30:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1254712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixians/pseuds/mixians
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kyuhyun finally meets his favorite author (who may or may not also be very, very handsome).</p>
            </blockquote>





	impression

**Author's Note:**

> late christmas fic for anu!! ♥ thank you again to ang for being my wonderful beta ;u;

Henry sighs impatiently and taps his foot against the sidewalk, crossing his arms and shivering in his thin hoodie. It’s so cold that Kyuhyun can see their breaths fogging out in front of them, but at least he’d thought to dress warmly. Henry did not.  
  
“I can’t believe I agreed to wait with you for _six hours_ in line just so you can get your dumb book signed by your ‘favorite author ever,’” Henry grumbles. “Is he really that amazing? Do you really think this is worth it?”  
  
“Yes,” Kyuhyun says, giving Henry a withering glare, “not that _you’d_ ever understand. Do you even read books?”  
  
“This isn’t even a book,” Henry says, pulling the bright pink book out of Kyuhyun’s hands. “It’s a scrapbook. Or a travel guide, or something. Can you even read Chinese? How can you call yourself a fan when you can’t understand half the things he writes?”  
  
Kyuhyun flushes a little. “There are translations! And this isn’t his only novel, okay? I swear, all of Zhou Mi’s books are like works of art.”  
  
“Are they really,” Henry snorts, flipping through the book in his hands. He stops on a page with several pictures of a shirtless Zhou Mi on it and turns it around to show Kyuhyun, who does an awful job of pretending he’s not embarrassed. “ _This_ is what you call a work of art.”  
  
“Shut up, I meant his writing,” Kyuhyun hisses, turning an even darker shade of red than before.  
  
Henry raises an eyebrow at him and glances around at the girls with piles of books and boxes of merchandise around them. “Are you sure about that? Because none of the other people here seem to be all that interested in his _writing_.”  
  
“I’m not them. That’s not what I’m interested in,” Kyuhyun says, refusing to meet Henry’s eyes, but he ends up staring at Zhou Mi’s picture in the still-open book instead, and Henry laughs.  
  
“Sure it’s not.”  
  
It’s another three hours before they even get close to the front of the line; Zhou Mi’s fanbase is a force to be reckoned with, even in Korea. After winning a national singing competition and releasing his first full album in mainland China, he’d quickly risen to fame, winning the hearts of people all over China. And when he’d taken a break from singing due to problems with his throat, he fell in love with writing, too. Not just songs for the other artists in his company, but books as well, and they flew off the shelves. He still performs, occasionally—his voice is well on its way to recovery—but he’s become even more well-known in recent years for his incredibly poetic and eloquent prose throughout East Asia, and, well. Here he is now, having a book signing for a book written entirely in Chinese in Seoul, South Korea. The interviewers all say he’s wonderfully kind, the brightest person they’ve ever met, and Kyuhyun can’t help but want to find out if that’s the truth for himself. Today is his chance, even if he’ll only have a minute, two minutes, tops, to be able to speak with Zhou Mi himself; he can only hope he'll leave an impression.  
  
Henry’s even more restless than before by the time they’re next up, and he fidgets in place, whining about how much he needs to use the restroom. Kyuhyun ignores him—Zhou Mi’s _there_ , right there in front of him, and he kind of can’t breathe. When the person in front of him finally leaves, he walks up to Zhou Mi in a daze, feeling like he needs to pinch himself, because this is all a dream, it has to be.  
  
“You are so unphotogenic,” he breathes, and he doesn’t quite realize he’s said it out loud until he hears Henry break out into laughter behind him.  
  
Zhou Mi laughs, too. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.”  
  
“I—um,” Kyuhyun says, feeling his cheeks heat up for what feels like the thousandth time today, fumbling with his copy of _Thai Perfect_ before passing it to Zhou Mi. “Flattered. I mean, I think you should be flattered, because what I’m trying to say is you look a lot better in person than you do in pictures, and you look _really_ good in pictures, so—”  
  
And that’s when he realizes what he’s saying and cuts himself off. Henry’s still snickering in the background and Zhou Mi’s looking at him with growing amusement, gold pen untouched next to where his hand rests on the table.  
  
“Well, thank you,” Zhou Mi beams, and now Kyuhyun knows what people mean when they say that Zhou Mi’s smile is blindingly bright (and almost painfully infectious). “What’s your name?”  
  
“Kyuhyun.” Kyuhyun almost goes on to ask, _And yours?_ but catches himself just in time.  
  
“Kyu… hyun,” Zhou Mi repeats unsteadily, like his tongue can’t quite wrap around the syllables right. Kyuhyun feels himself starting to grin a little, too. Zhou Mi’s Korean is so _cute_. “It’s nice to meet you.”  
  
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Kyuhyun says in his shaky Mandarin, and Zhou Mi’s whole face lights up.  
  
“You speak Chinese!” he exclaims, switching to Mandarin as well. “How’d you learn it? Have you been to China before?”  
  
“No,” Kyuhyun admits, and _oh no_ , he’s blushing again. “I, um. I started taking classes. Because of you.”  
  
“Aw, really?” Zhou Mi says, beaming even brighter. “I’m really touched. Honestly.”  
  
“I’m not very good yet,” Kyuhyun says, and he’s pretty sure his grammar is completely off, but Zhou Mi seems to get it anyways, “but I’m learning. I want to be fluent one day.”  
  
“You know what they say!” Zhou Mi tells him. “Practice makes perfect!”  
  
Kyuhyun can feel the time running out, so much more quickly than he wants it to. So he throws caution to the wind and says (though it comes out a little shakier than he intends it to, but he hopes Zhou Mi doesn’t notice), “Then maybe I should practice with you. We could have lunch together sometime.”  
  
“Oh,” Zhou Mi says, looking a little surprised, but pleased nonetheless. Kyuhyun feels like his heart is in his throat, stuck there, not letting him breathe. “Well, that’s a first. No one’s ever been so direct with me about that.” He laughs a little, but it’s not mean or mocking or anything Kyuhyun’s been worrying about, and _yeah_ , those interviewers must’ve been right about him after all. Zhou Mi grins and gives him a little wink. “We’ll see, Kyuhyun. We’ll see.”  
  
He hands Kyuhyun’s book back to him—Kyuhyun hadn’t even realized that Zhou Mi had already signed it—and waves cheerfully.  
  
“I hope we’ll meet again someday,” Kyuhyun tells him honestly. Zhou Mi smiles at him once more, and Kyuhyun feels a little bit like he’s melting on the inside.  
  
“I hope so too!” Zhou Mi says, and Kyuhyun can’t stop looking over his shoulder, even after Zhou Mi has turned back to the next person in line, although he _swears_ for a moment, just a moment, Zhou Mi’s eyes meet his again, and Zhou Mi smiles a little wider. But maybe it’s just his imagination.  
  
“Forgot about me?” Henry asks from beside him. He’s still snickering a little bit. “You are so _obvious_. Man, I’m embarrassed to even know you.”  
  
“Shut up,” Kyuhyun says, shoving him, but he can’t keep the smile off of his face. “Like you and Amber weren’t any worse.”  
  
“That was low and you know it,” Henry laughs. He takes the book out of Kyuhyun’s hands once they’re seated in the backseat of a cab and turns it over in his hands. “So was it worth it? All nine hours of waiting?”  
  
Henry flips the cover of the book open to where Zhou Mi has signed it in sparkly gold pen. At the bottom is a note: _So if you really want to practice your Chinese sometime… Call me?_ And underneath that is—Zhou Mi’s phone number?  
  
Kyuhyun can’t help but let the smile spread wide across his face, so wide that it hurts, as he says, “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”


End file.
